


Intended Recipient

by patternofdefiance



Series: Texts From Last Night [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Accidental Text, M/M, Texts From Last Night, flirting via text
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3102071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patternofdefiance/pseuds/patternofdefiance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the texts from last night prompt:<br/>(410):it was a mass text i'm sorry <br/>(603):do you usually send 'hey sexy' as a mass text (mystrade)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intended Recipient

**Author's Note:**

> I took some liberties with the wording to keep the exchange in character.

Mycroft’s phone chimes.

It’s late, and he left the office hours ago, having cleared up two international… _incidents_ with a minimum of fuss. Which means the world was in perfect working order when he came home. Which means he isn’t really expecting any sort of contact requesting his particular brand of assistance.

Still, the thing about the world is that you can lead it to perfect working order, but you cannot keep it there indefinitely.

Mycroft sighs and rolls over in his bed, reaching for his mobile.

Text message. He frowns.

_Hey sexy_

It’s only two words, but they are quite possibly the only two words that could have surprised him.  _'Queen assassinated' -_ unfortunate but a distinct possibility.  _'Presence required' -_ a regular feature of his messages. Even _'World ending'_ would have made more sense.

Instead: _Hey sexy._

It’s late, so it takes him a moment to recognise the originating number as that belonging to a certain tall, silver haired Detective Inspector. Mycroft takes a breath to exhale in annoyance, but it emerges slower and far less…irritated.

 _Well, that’s quite the development_ \- and he’s thinking of the text rather than his reaction to it, because he’s been aware of his inability to regulate his responses to Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade for some time now. It is inconvenient at best and distracting to the extreme when he lets it get the better of him.

Like now.

He takes a breath and reminds himself that the message came from a device, not a person - one reason he stores all contacts as their numbers and not their names: a reminder that anyone can potentially use any phone to reach him - which is why he replies:

_Who is this?_

He blinks tired eyes as he stares into the muted dark of his bedroom, waiting for a reply.

Another chime. Another text. Oh.

_Who is this?_

Mycroft blinks. Not from the same number - so a self-coding burner phone, which could only mean -

His phone chimes again multiple sounds layering. More messages. All from different numbers, with such sterling contributions as:

_Pfft. Don’t be ridiculous._

and

_Boss, go home you’re drunk_

and

_LOL haha ;)_

and

_I don’t think you meant to send this to me…_

and lastly:

_Your technological ineptitude never ceases to amaze. SH_

Mycroft blinks at that last response. Not a self-coding burner phone, then. A simple send-field error.

The tension of impending attack (cyber or physical) drains away, leaving him only a lingering sense of disappointment.

Mycroft turns his phone on mute - a rare indulgence - and turns over, wills himself to sleep. It works eventually.

In the morning, Mycroft wakes to 28 texts, 27 of which are responses of varying levels of humour and confusion, some going as far as to debate the actual object of the original text’s admiration. Each theory is shot down by a simple ‘ _Wrong! SH_.’

Mycroft deletes the whole lot of them - except the 28th text, which is from the original phone number and simply says:

_It was a mass text. I’m sorry_

Mycroft rolls his eyes. As if that wasn’t obvious by now - and yet…

His interactions with the Detective Inspector are few and far between (and usually Sherlock-centric), and as such, their exchanges have always been formal and professional (for given values of formal and professional that include the occasional black-car ride to an empty warehouse or deserted office building…just to check up. On Sherlock, that is.)

Surely this time - with the texting _faux pas_ as a far less official conversational opening - a less businesslike response would not go amiss?

Before he can talk himself out of it - or rather, have coffee and _think_ himself out of it, Mycroft opens a new text conversation with the original number and sends:

_Do you make a habit sending ‘hey sexy’ as a mass text?_

Mycroft waits for a reply for five minutes, before realising it is 8:30 am on a Sunday. Admittedly a bit early to be expecting a reply from someone who had undoubtedly spent the previous evening drinking and (if the text was any indication) carousing.

The thought is a sour one, but Mycroft doesn’t shy away from it.

His morning routine of cardio, breakfast, and bathing serves as a balm for the night’s oddness, and he’s mostly put the whole situation out of his mind by the time he emerges from the shower.

Which is why the message waiting icon is a bit of a surprise.

If he were the sort of person who lied to himself about these things, he would deny the frisson of excitement that crawls up his spine at the sight - but he isn’t, so he doesn’t.

It reads:

_I don’t, actually. Sorry again for the mass response of confusion._

Mycroft lets himself sigh. It’s a carefully polite reply. Not quite what he was hoping for -

The next text is a surprise:

_This *is* Mycroft, right?_

Mycroft feels a flutter. He replies:

_Yes._

He decides against signing his name as he normally would - he’d started this interaction without his official signature line, and adding it now seems like a distancing tactic. Not what he wants to bring to this conversation at all.

_Good._

The inspector’s reply brings a bit of a smile to Mycroft’s lips. The next one, however -

_Just checking that I’m talking with the original, intended recipient this time._

 - that one brings a blush.

**Author's Note:**

> If you feel like looking me up on tumblr, my username is the same there: patternofdefiance  
> <3


End file.
